The Hellsing Household
by Wammy's House Dropout
Summary: Walter knows approximately zero about raising children.
1. Little Miss Hellsing

**So this little ficlet marks the beginning of a series of oneshots featuring Walter that take place during Integra's upbringing. Most will be fairly lighthearted, some will be serious.**

 **May contain spoilers for the entire series. :)**

 **DISCLAIMER: Hellsing is the property of Kouta Hirano and Studio Madhouse. Please support the official release.**

 **Please review to show support :D**

* * *

Walter C Dornez know approximately fuckall about taking care of children. He doesn't like children, and doesn't know the first thing about what they want or what they need.

So how he got roped into being the primary caretaker for Arthur Hellsing's infant daughter is beyond him.

The baby is a tiny little thing- she hardly seems to weigh anything when Walter picks her up to carry her around. Ugly, too; despite Arthur's insistence that she was the most beautiful, perfect thing in the world, Walter only saw a squishy, pink, potato-shaped protohuman. All in all, this new being was a squalling, smelly mess, and Walter had a hard time seeing the appeal in having one of your own.

Still- Arthur had work to do, and Walter was the only one he trusted to babysit. So, he carried the little bundle around while he performed his duties as the butler of the Hellsing manor. Little Integra sat on a blanket while he dusted the chandeliers or swept the floors, with a bottle or some trinket or another to keep her occupied. He dresses her and bathes her and soothes her to sleep, even though he hasn't the foggiest clue if he's doing anything right.

But the child hasn't died yet, so he must not be doing too badly.

Integra makes a happy gurgling sound and crawls toward him on chubby limbs, grinning toothlessly up at him. Walter hands her a spoon from the tray of silver he's polishing. She giggles and bangs it against the table leg before sticking it in her mouth, gumming the cold metal like it was the most amazing meal in the world.

Walter watches with a vague sort of interest while he does his work.

He supposes it's kind of cute. Just a little bit.

"Alright, I'm finished here," he says, standing and picking Integra up off the ground. The baby squeals and beats a tiny hand against his cheek

"That's not very ladylike," Walter scolds gently, though he finds himself smiling.

Integra babbles some nonsense, trying to get his glasses into her mouth.

"Hey now- stop that!"

Walter laughs in spite of himself, which gets the baby to laugh as well.

"Our next stop is to dust the library, little miss. I'll have to ask you don't chew on any of your father's books."

He sets Integra down and starts into his dusting. He becomes engrossed in it, momentarily forgetting he was supposed to be minding his master's daughter.

Integra bursts out screaming, ripping Walter from his task and sending him flying into a panic.

A large spider scurries away from the baby, leaving the sobbing child with an angry red puncture on her tiny hand.

"Oh dear," Walter mumbles, grabbing Integra and taking her into one of the mansion's many bathrooms. He puts some antiseptic on the small wound, and debates whether he should bandage it, before deciding that Integra was far too young to keep a bandage on.

Her wails die down to pitiful whimpers. Her huge blue eyes are still full of tears, which roll freely down her round cheeks.

"Now there, it's alright," Walter tries to reassure her- though he's unsure of how much a baby can really understand. "It's just a spider bite. You'll be right as rain in no time."

Integra sniffles, then flings her small body forward to cling to Walter's shirt. Walter smiles pityingly at her.

"Maybe it's time you took a nap, little miss," he mutters, patting her back absentmindedly.


	2. First Word

**Have more cute bby Integra :D**

* * *

"Wa! Wa! Wa!"

Integra- eight months old now- tugs at Walter's pant leg impetuously, pouting at him for not paying her any attention.

Walter sets down his dusting rag and crouches down to her level, smiling in a tired amusement.

"What is it, little miss?" He chuckles.

Integra grabs his nose, a serious expression on her round face.

"Walah."

"Hm? Are you trying to tell me something?"

The baby's tiny brow knits together in what surely must be the utmost concentration.

"Walah. Waldah. Wal-tah."

Walter blinks in surprise.

"Oh, little miss- are you trying to say my name?"

He is taken aback by this, unsure how this is supposed to make him feel.

Beyond the fact that Integra is learning to speak so precociously- her first attempt to speak is to call for _him._ Not _daddy_ or _papa._ Integra is not asking for her father. She's asking for him.

For Walter.

Something that might be pride wells up in his chest. He gently takes Integra's small arm and pulls it away, and gives her a pat on the head.

"Yes, little miss. I'm Walter."

"Wal-tah! Wal-tah!" Integra shrieks gleefully, flailing her arms in an infantile attempt at clapping. She then darts off on all fours down the hallway at top speed.

"Now where are you going?" Walter laughs, getting up to follow after her.

Integra turns a corner, then suddenly stops. She falls backward onto her diapered bottom, enormous blue eyes transfixed on the locked door in front of her.

Walter's body turns to ice.

That was the door that led to the basement. To the dungeon where _he_ was trapped…

"Wal-tah?"

Integra bangs on the door with a tiny hand, babbling a string of incoherent nonsense.

"We mustn't go down there, little miss," Walter scolds in a clipped tone, abruptly picking Integra up and carrying her away. "A monster lives down there."

Integra squirms and fusses indignantly, still fixated on the door.

"You don't need to meet him, little miss. That monster isn't worth your time, I assure you."

Walter takes Integra into the study and sets her down with a stuffed rabbit to occupy her while he cleans. The baby picks up on his soured mood, however, and completely ignores her bunny.

"Wal-tah?"

 _Are you mad at me?_ She seems to be asking.

"I'm not upset with you." Walter reassures her, rather halfheartedly. "Not with you."


	3. Do Vampires get Lonely?

**Enjoy this little thing of Integra being cute :)**

* * *

Walter can't find sleep tonight, so whiles away the late hours reading, Rain beats a heavy tattoo on the roof of the manor, the wind rattling the windowpanes and thunder growling like a hungry animal.

Tucked into a warm bed in a warm house, listening to a storm rage outside the confines of the walls. Hot tea on his bedside table and a good book to read - this kind of life isn't bad at all. At the very least, he isn't unhappy like this.

A frantic knock at his door pulls him from his book. Setting it aside, he gets up to undo the latch on the door and peer out into the dark hallway.

He's greeted by a very panicked Integra. She throws herself at him the moment the door opens. Before Walter can ask what on Earth is the matter, the girl begins to wail.

"I-I'm scared!"

""Of what?" Walter asks, raising an eyebrow.

Thunder cracks again- Integra whimpers sharply, burying her face in his shoulder.

Oh. That.

"There, there, little Miss- It's nothing to be afraid of," Walter assures her, picking her up and carrying her down to the kitchen. At five years old now, Integra is getting heavy; Walter isn't sure how much longer he'll be able to carry her around like this (Getting old is bloody awful).

He pulls up a couple chairs and 3makes her her own cup of tea- with plenty of sugar, the way she likes it- and sits down to keep muttering soothing nonsense to her.

"It's just a bit of noise, Miss. Nothing to be afraid of."

"B-but it's scary-" Integra whines, then yelps when yet more thunder rattles her nerves.

"Honestly, it's alright. I'm not scared of it."

"That's easy for you to say," Integra pouts. "You're not scared of anything."

"Well, I did hunt vampires back in the day!" Walter chuckles, flexing his arm to prove his point. "Compared to that, a bit of a storm is nothing!"

"...Are vampires really as scary as daddy makes them sound?"

"Well, sometimes," Walter shrugs. "They're very dangerous, and they could hurt you very badly if you aren't careful."

Integra frowns.

"Why do they hurt people?" She asks, the innocence in the question almost painful.

"Maybe they can't help it," he answers, after mulling the question over. "They live off human blood, so surely they must see us as little more than prey."

"Like wolves?"

"Not quite. In my experience, vampires are quite a bit more solitary than wolves. Most of the ones I've met prefer to be alone."

"But- don't they get lonely?"

"Hm?"

"Nobody really likes to be alone. Don't vampires get lonely just being by themselves all the time?"

Walter scratches his head. Truthfully, he's never given any thought to the emotions of a vampire- that sort of thing was bad in his line of work.

"I wouldn't know. I've never asked," he answers honestly.

An adorably somber expression adorns Integra's face, and she stares into her cup of tea like she's very deep in thought.

"When I meet my first vampire, I'll ask them," she says soberly.

"Oh?" Walter almost bursts out laughing.

"W-why is that funny?!" Integra demands.

"It's not- I'm sorry." Walter wipes away a stray tear of mirth from the corner of his eye. "You just made the most adorable face when you said it."

Integra huffs in childish anger, but she doesn't retort.

The thunder has died down to a low grumble in the distance.

"Now then, Miss- let's get you back to bed, shall we?"

Walter leads Integra back to her bedroom and tucks her in. She falls quickly back to sleep, and Walter returns to his own room. His tea has gone cold, and he's lost his place in the book he'd been reading. Somehow, though, he doesn't mind.


	4. Starstruck

**Bby Integra gets her glasses~**

* * *

Integra dons a sour expression, regarding her new glasses with disdainful apprehension.

"What's wrong?" Walter asks, suppressing his laughter at her adorable face. Integra wrinkles her nose in disgust.

"Won't these make me look brainy?" She whines.

"Brainy? What on earth is wrong with looking brainy?"

The girl doesn't have a response to that.

"Just try them on, miss. I think you'll like them."

Integra huffs, pulls a face, and slips the glasses on. A small gasp escapes her, blue eyes growing wide as the world came into focus for the first time. Walter smiles and ruffles her hair.

"See? What did I tell you?"

Integra regards the tiny little wonders that've been hidden from her for so long. The petals of the flowers on the coffee table. The filigree in the parlor's wallpaper. The dust swirling in the rays of sunlight caught between the trees beyond the window.

Her gaze settles, finally, on Walter.

"...you look older than I thought." She remarks. Walter laughs from sheer surprise.

"Well, you spend a few decades hunting vampires and we'll see how good you look!" He retorts, with a playful grin.

"Daddy doesn't look as old as you!"

"You haven't even seen him properly!"

"Arguing with a child, Walter?"

Integra squeals and runs to her father. Arthur picks her up and twirls her around.

"There's my princess! How're those glasses working for you?"

"I can see everything, daddy! Everything!"

Arthur beams at his pretty child, running a hand through her gold curls, puffed up with that pride that only fathers really know.

"They should make reading much easier on you now. Take good care of them, alright?"

Integra nods.

"You and Walter are old, daddy!" She giggles.

"Keep breathing and you'll get there one day," Arthur remarks, setting her back down, fixing her mussed skirt. "Everyone does."

"Not vampires," Integra reminds him.

"Fair enough- every _human_ gets old eventually."

Walter pretends to sort out some clutter while he listens in.

"Why just humans though?" Integra asks, tiny brow knitted in confusion. "It doesn't seem fair."

"What's not fair?"

"Vampires get to keep living and seeing new things!" Integra whines. "They can meet new people and go to new places for hundreds of years, but humans can't! That's what's not fair!"

"Well, yes. But think of it this way- how would you feel if every single person you knew or friend you made or pet you had kept dying? Everything you knew changed or got destroyed. But you're still there. You're always there. You keep going on for centuries upon centuries, knowing that no matter what happened to the world, you're still there- forever. That doesn't sound so fun, does it?"

Integra's demeanor has grown solemn, her countenance far too somber and ancient for a six-year-old girl.

"...No." She replies.

Walter hides his scowl by acting like he's adjusting the curtains.

 _It isn't right to teach her to pity monsters,_ he wants to say. _She shouldn't grow up feeling sorry for vampires._

He says nothing, however, Maybe he's too cowardly to speak up.

"Do they ever want to go back to being human?" Integra asks, her insatiable curiosity coming back to her.

"Some do," Arthur answers. "Although I only know one who's willing to admit it."

"Really?! You know a vampire?! Can I meet him?!"

Walter almost knocks a vase clean over.

Arthur chortles.

"Maybe someday I'll introduce you."

Of all the bad ideas in the history of bad ideas, Walter can't help but think that introducing Integra to _him_ would be one of the worst.

"Are you friends?! Does Walter know him too?!" Integra demands, bouncing in excitement.

"Hm? Friends? I don't quite know if I'd say that. We _did_ spend quite a bit of time together."

"What's he like?! Is he handsome?"

Integra's pushiness is adorable, but Walter wants to yank her away and banish these questions from her mind. As far as he's concerned, she doesn't need to know anything about Alucard.

"He's...Interesting. And very handsome." Her father responds.

"Like a prince?"

"Even better. He's a king."

Little Integra practically swoons, and Walter clears his throat to interrupt them.

"Don't you have an appointment somewhere, master?" He asks pointedly.

"Ah, of course."

Arthur gives Integra a parting hug and a kiss on the forehead.

"I'll be back in time for dinner, love."

He leaves the parlor, leaving Integra still starry-eyed in wonder.

"Is he really a king, Walter?"

Walter remains silent, but Integra is too enamored to care much.

"I'm going to the library!" The girl chirps, before scurrying off.

Walter sits on one of the enormous armchairs, sinking deep into the thick cushion. He rubs his temples and huffs indignantly.

 _Her father is putting dangerous ideas into her head._


	5. Vögelchen

**No real comments on this chapter. Have fun, and please review!**

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"Uncle Richard!"

Integra dashes down the stairs and leaps into the man's arms, nearly knocking his briefcase out of his grip.

"My goodness, you're getting so tall, little fräulein!"

Integra begins to bounce, indigo eyes alight with excitement.

"Guten Morgen, Onkle Richard!" She chirps, enunciating each word with painstaking care. "Alles klar?"

Richard laughs, a rumbling deep in his chest.

"You've been practicing, haven't you?" He chuckles. "Sehr gut, fräulein! Sehr gut"

"Just like you told me to, Uncle Richard! I can read that book you brought me without any help now!"

Walter pretends to be very invested in waxing the banister, keeping sharp watch on Integra out of the corner of his eye.

There's something very wrong about the way he looks at her. He looks at her like a wolf would eye a helpless fawn. That predatory gaze that set sirens off in Walter's head and create pits in his stomach every time he comes around. Yet- he never says anything. He bites his tongue so often it's a miracle it's still in his skull.

"What's with that face, Walter?"

Richard gives him a grin that's all teeth and no mirth.

"What face?" Walter responds, teeth gritted.

Richard doesn't say anything else, but maintains that grin.

"Where's your father, Integra?" he asks, returning his attention to his niece.

"In his study," Integra responds, bouncing on the balls of her feet, long gold curls bouncing right along with her.

"Why don't we pay him a visit then? I've got something I'd like to show the both of you."

Integra nods, then takes off running down the hall toward the study. Richard follows after her with Walter close behind, making no more pretence of not watching the girl. He won't let the two be alone even for a moment.

Integra knocks sharply, three times, on the study door, but throws it open before Arthur gives a response. Walter ducks into the room before Richard can shut the door in his face.

"Daddy, Uncle Richard says he wants to show us something!" She chirrups, still jumping around with pent-up energy.

Arthur swings around in his office chair, raising a golden eyebrow.

"Is that so?" He asks, turning his eyes first to his daughter, then to his brother. "Well, let's see it then."

Richard sets his briefcase on Arthur's desk. The briefcase _click_ s twice when he pops it open.

"I think our little Vögelchen will like this very much; I had it especially made for her."

Richard pulls out a very small, very shiny, very sharp sword.

"It's pure silver," he says proudly. "And quite lightweight. It's lovely, isn't it?"

Arthur eyes the blade, clearly impressed. Integra gasps, awestruck at this unexpected gift.

"That's pretty impressive, little brother."

"Is it really for me?!" Integra breathes.

"Of course, Fräulein! Here- I'll show you how to hold it."

"I don't think Integra should be playing around with swords!" Walter interjects, perhaps a bit too harsh to be polite. Integra pauses, hands hovering over the handle of the blade.

"Why not?" Richard asks, in an aggravatingly innocent tone.

"She's going to hurt herself!" Politeness be damned; Walter is going to put his foot down if Arthur wasn't going to say something.

"I'd say there are far worse things that could happen to our dear Integra than getting a cut," Richard says darkly.

Walter grits his teeth. Integra blinks, small brow knitting together.

"You're not going to be around forever, Mein Freund. What will happen to her if she's assaulted by a hungry vampire? Or finds herself in the clutches of a ghoul and you aren't around to save her? Wouldn't it be better for her to be able to save herself?"

...Damn. Walter has no good retort to that.

Integra grabs the sword; the handle is the perfect fit for her tiny hands. She gives it a swing in slow-motion, beaming as she does so.

"Can I really learn how to fight, daddy?!"

"Of course, darling. I'd say you're old enough now."

Walter is sure he's pouting in a very undignified manner.

He knows, deep down, he's being unreasonable. It's true that Integra needs to learn to protect herself at some point. It's also true that it's better for her to learn sooner rather than later. Despite that, however, the thought makes his stomach lurch.

However-

The thought of her being torn apart by ghouls, or trapped in the clutches of some wicked vampire, made him physically ill.

Richard is right. As much as he hates to have to admit it.


	6. Just the Flu

**No, I didn't forget about this story. I'm back :)**

 **Review, follow, favorite, etc. etc. :D**

* * *

Even though, logically, Walter knows that Integra has just come down with the flu, and she'll be back to her normal self in a week or so, a part of him is still deeply disturbed by how weak the poor girl is right now. Unable to do much more than moan weakly between wet coughing fits, she seems startlingly near death (even though Walter knows damn well that Integra is nowhere near dying).

In the ten years she's been alive, Integra has never had anything worse than a cold. If Walter thought anyone would listen, he would pray for her to just hurry up and be well again.

But, of course, nobody worth praying to would ever listen to Walter.

He makes a fresh pot of tea and heats up some soup, hoping he can coax the girl to eat something. He makes his way upstairs, cringing slightly when he hears the harsh sounds of illness coming from Integra's room.

Integra's fever is still quite high, her eyes cloudy and unfocused. She blinks blearily at Walter, and he does his best impression of a smile back at her as he hands her the tray he's prepared.

"You might feel better if you eat a little."

Integra doesn't reply, but she does have a few spoonfuls of soup, before moving on to nurse her cup of tea.

"Are you feeling any better?" Walter asks.

"I feel like death," Integra mumbles into her teacup.

"I'm sorry, Miss. I'm sure it won't last long."

Walter grabs her hairbrush off the nightstand and sits on the edge of the bed, gently trying to sort out the rats' nest her hair had become after two days of neglect. Integra holds as still as she can, despite bursting out coughing every few minutes or so, and shivering like she's freezing despite her high temperature. Walter briefly stops what he's doing to fetch her a spare blanket.

(It breaks Walter's heart to see her so miserable.)

Integra hugs the blanket around her shoulders while Walter gets back to fixing her hair.

He starts braiding her hair back to keep it out of the way until she's well enough to tend to it properly.

"...Walter? Could I ask you something?"

"Yes, Miss?"

"That vampire daddy says he knew- the king- is he the same vampire Grandpa Abraham talked about?"

Walter blinks- has Integra really still been thinking about this, after all this time?

"Well- I believe so, Miss. But that was a bit before my time, so I wouldn't know for sure."

(Walter doesn't know why he's lying; he knows damn well what Alucard is.)

"Where is the vampire now?" Integra asks. "Daddy said he's still alive- what happened to him?"

Though he feels a twinge of guilt for doing it, Walter decides to lie once more.

"I don't know."

He ties off the end of the braid and coaxes Integra to lay back down, tucking her in snugly.

"Try to get some sleep, Miss."

"...He must be so lonely."

"Huh?"

Integra shakes her head.

"Nevermind. I'm sorry, Walter."

She turns over in bed with a heavy sigh. Walter frowns, but doesn't press her any further. He takes the tray and leaves Integra to rest.

On his way to deal with the dirty dishes, he passes by the door to the basement, and pauses in his tracks.

He grits his teeth so tightly they feel like they'll crack at any moment.

"You'd get a kick out of her, wouldn't you?" He growls. "Asking after you, wasting her time thinking about you. I'll bet you'd love it."

He glowers at the door.

"I wish she'd just forget all about you. She'd be better off for it."

Walter kicks the door for good measure, and goes back on his way.


	7. The Lonely Voice

Walter stands impatiently at the gates of Integra's school, glaring at the rain that pours ceaselessly just beyond the narrow confines of his umbrella.

The school bell rings, and a fleet of children come pouring out the door and down the steps, chattering excitedly. They split up into groups of friends and begin the journey home-

All except for Integra, who heads to the gates alone, head down, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.

"Did you have a good day, Miss?" Walter asks, ushering her under the umbrella and beginning the walk home.

Integra mumbles something unintelligible.

"What's that, Miss?"

"Nothing."

Walter frowns, and nudges her gently.

"Come on now. What's wrong?"

Integra scowls in an attempt to disguise the tears in her eyes.

"...Walter, is Daddy crazy?"

Walter blinks.

"Why on Earth would you say that?"

Integra shuffles uncomfortably. Fidgets with her glasses. Furrows her brow.

"Everyone tells me Daddy's just crazy. And he's lying about vampires and everything. Walter, that's not true, is it?"

Walter bursts out laughing.

"Well, if he's crazy, I must be crazy too! Unless all those vampires I fought were actors your father hired to trick me!"

This gets Integra to giggle.

"I guess you're right."

She carries herself a bit lighter after that, comforted by Walter's reassurance. She hops over a puddle and does a little pirouette on the pavement.

"Miss, if you play in the rain, you'll catch a cold," Walter scolds.

"Daddy says that's a load of bollocks," Integra replies.

"There's no need for language like that, Miss."

Integra pouts, but she gets back under the umbrella after that, and remains silent the rest of the way home. The rainwater makes ringlets in her curly hair, making her look like a precious china doll.

"We're home, Daddy!" Integra calls from the doorway, pulling her schoolbag off as she dashes up the stairs to Arthur's study.

Walter follows her up- although at a far slower pace (yeah, getting old still sucks). Integra darts into the open study and throws her arms around Arthur's neck.

"Welcome back, love!" Arthur beams, hugging her close. "How was school?"

"Everyone thinks you're crazy," Integra says matter-of-factly.

"Oh do they now?" Arthur asks, quirking an eyebrow.

Integra nods.

"Well, they're right."

Integra frowns.

"What do you mean, Daddy?"

"I'm mad. Loony. Absolutely batty. Completely bonkers."

Arthur grins at her.

"But all the best people are, Integra. It's not a bad thing to be."

He ruffles her hair playfully.

"Now how about you go get some homework done before dinner? If you finish, I'll do some fencing with you after, alright?"

"Okay, Daddy!" Integra chirps, darting off toward her bedroom.

Arthur breaks out into a horrid, hacking, dry cough that wracks his entire frame.

"Sir? Are you alright?" Walter asks, rather startled.

Arthur reaches for the glass of water on his desk and downs in in a few great gulps.

"...I'm just fine," he assures Walter, once he's regained his breath. "I'm sure I've just caught Integra's flu, is all. I'll be right as rain in no time!"

A part of Walter's mind tugs at his shirtsleeve, telling him that Arthur isn't quite being truthful. Or, at the very least, that Arthur is wrong.

"Alright then, sir," he says, despite his mind's protests. "I'll leave you be, then."

"Actually, Walter, if you're heading to the kitchen, I'd love a cup of tea. And some of that caramel cake you made yesterday."

Walter nods.

"Right away, sir."

* * *

The manor is always so eerily calm at night. Walter likes to take the time to wander the halls before bed, making sure the lights are all off, the windows and doors all closed and locked. He hums a merry little tune to himself, and in the back of his mind wonders how he ever grew to enjoy being this domestic.

He's just about finished shutting off all the lights in the lower floors, when he gets the distinct sensation that something is amiss. He rounds the corner warily, thinking perhaps some stray cat has found its way into the manor again.

What he finds is not a cat, however.

Curled up in front of the door to the basement, in her favorite blue nightie, Integra is sound asleep. A copy of _Les Miserables_ lay centimeters from her head, glasses sliding up her face.

Two thoughts go through Walter's mind simultaneously.

First: How long has Integra been down here?

Second: _Why_ is she down here?

"Miss?"

Walter crouches down (painfully- getting old is a load of bollocks) and gently shakes her shoulder.

"Hmmn?"

Blue eyes open wearily, her voice heavy with sleep.

Walter struggles to keep anger out of his voice.

"What are you doing down here, Miss?"

Integra sits up and lets out a yawn. She turns her gaze at the door behind her, brow knitting together in that way it often does.

"I- well...it's a bit odd, actually…"

The girl fidgets with the hem of her nightie, frowning.

"It's strange- but sometimes, when I come around here...I swear I can hear a voice."

Walter's stomach is beginning to tie itself into complicated knots.

"...Oh?" He manages.

Integra picks up her book and hugs it to her chest.

"He sounds lonely," she murmurs against the cover.

"He?" Walter asks.

"It's a man's voice." Integra replies.

She still won't look at Walter.

"Well...what is 'he' saying?" Walter prods.

Walter wants to yell and curse and scream- but, more than that, he doesn't want to frighten Integra. So he does his best to keep his voice level.

"I don't know," Integra answers, rising to her feet and still clutching her book to her chest. "He's very quiet, so I'm never quite sure what he's saying. But Walter, I swear I _can_ hear him- I'm not lying!"

"I never said you were lying."

That earnest azure gaze breaks Walter's heart.

"...He sounds lonely," she says again, softly. Sadly.

Walter sighs, and nudges Integra away from the door.

"Let's get you to bed. It's cold down here."

On their way up the stairs, Integra keeps glancing over her shoulder at the basement door.

"Walter...is someone down there?" She asks. "Or am I going mad?"

Walter pretends not to hear her.

He sees her off to bed with a hug, and a reassurance not to worry. The troubled expression on Integra's face lets him know that she isn't reassured.

He makes his way back down to the basement door, crosses his arms, and glares at it with all his might.

"Can you not just leave good enough alone?" He growls, balling his hands into fists to stop their shaking. "She's not a bloody toy, so stop playing around with her!"

No answer, of course.

Walter finishes his usual nightly chores, seething all the while.

 _Arthur said he can't do anything anymore._ He grumbles in his head. _He's trapped, he said. He shouldn't even know what's going on…_

Before retiring to his own room, he peeks in on Integra one last time.

Integra is fast asleep once more, her favorite stuffed bear tucked under one arm. Such a sweet sight- the picture of innocence.

But- maybe it's a trick of the light- Walter swears a shadow that shouldn't be there flickers across the headboard, sliding down onto the floor and melting out of sight.


	8. The Highest Shelf

**Back from another unintentional hiatus! Hope the chapter isn't shit :D *weeps silently in corner***

* * *

"...I'm sorry, Sir- I'm not sure I understand."

Walter stands in the middle of Arthur's study, not comprehending (or not _wanting_ to comprehend) what Arthur has just told him.

Surely this must be some sort of bad joke. But Arthur doesn't look like he's joking. As a matter of fact, Walter has never seen the man look so deadly serious (and that's no small feat).

"...Is there really nothing that can be done?" He asks, barely above a whisper.

Arthur not-smiles at Walter, and shakes his head.

"I'm afraid not. The best they could do is buy me a few more months, and I'm not keen on lingering miserably for any longer than I have to."

Arthur's half-hearted laugh turns into a hoarse, hacking cough halfway through. His handkerchief comes back stained with blood when he finally catches his breath.

"...What about Integra?" Walter asks (though it's humiliating, he can't keep his voice from cracking).

"She'll have you, Walter."

Arthur rises from his desk, walking with heavy steps to stand in front of Walter. He grasps Walter's shoulder and smiles sadly at him.

"You've been more of a father to her than I have, it seems." He sighs. "You're the one who's always been there for her, and you'll be there for her when I'm gone. She'll be alright."

"Sir-"

"Now cut that out, Walter. I don't need you getting all sentimental on me now!"

"It's not that, Sir-"

"Hey, don't be like that."

Arthur gives Walter a playful whack on the arm.

"I'm not afraid to die, after all. And Integra's gonna be well looked after, even when I'm gone. Don't be glum, alright? It's all fine."

Before Walter can gather himself enough to respond, there's a large crash from the library downstairs.

"Walter, help!"

"It sounds like Integra needs you," Arthur laughs. "We'll talk about this later, okay?"

Walter sighs heavily. He turns and hurries out of the office to rescue Integra.

When he gets to the library, he's greeted by a mountain of books which have fallen from the shelves. Integra's arm sticks out from the pile, feeling around for an escape.

"Walter!" She whines, her voice muffled under the mess of paper and binding. "I think I'm stuck…"

Walter shakes his head, and rushes to rescue her.

A dark purple knot is already swelling on Integra's forehead. She whimpers while Walter brushes dust and bits of book off her clothes.

"What on Earth happened here, Miss?" He asks, an amused smile on his face.

"I wanted a book off the top shelf," Integra pouts, rubbing the angry wound on her head.

"Oh goodness, Miss. What did I say about asking for help with stuff on the top? That's dangerous!" Walter scolds.

"I'm sorry…"

Integra whimpers, turning those big, blue eyes up at Walter, welled up with tears- and Walter just can't be angry anymore.

He sighs, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Let's get some ice for that bump on your head, Miss."

* * *

Some cool ice in a kitchen towel takes the edge off Integra's whimpering, and Walter gets to work on lunch while she sits on the counter opposite him.

"I hope you've learned to be more careful now," Walter half jokes, while he works.

"It's not my fault daddy keeps all his old books up high," Integra pouts.

"What is it with you and your father's old history books, anyway?" Walter inquires bemusedly.

"Because _he_ likes them."

Walter brings his knife down harshly, nearly slicing off his own thumb.

(He'd really hoped Integra would quickly outgrow this fascination with the bastard haunting the basement. But he supposes one can't always get what one wants.)

"Oh...does he, now?" he asks, teeth clenched. "How can you tell?"

Light pink dusts integra's cheeks; she smiles and squirms excitedly.

"I'm not sure, exactly. But I just know, you know? So I've been reading out of Daddy's history books to keep him company. I was trying to get that one on ancient Rome for tonight."

"Well, I'm sure it's in that pile on the floor. Maybe you'll find it while you help me get it back in order." Walter chides, finishing up lunch and ushering her to the dining room to eat.

"Is Daddy not coming down today?" Integra asks, a bit crestfallen.

"He's busy right now," Walter lies. "I'll be taking his food up to him- I'll be just a moment, Miss."

Once he's out of Integra's line of vision, he takes a break in the hallway to collect himself.

He doesn't have time to be angry with Alucard. That can wait until later. For now, he has to help get things in order before Arthur dies.

However long that's going to take.


	9. Shadows

**I dunno guys, I just really like the idea of Alucard just being a quiet lil comfort blanket. Sue me.**

* * *

It's another restless night for Walter.

Now, sleeplessness is far from unusual for him- he'd grown far too accustomed to the nocturnal lifestyle of a vampire hunter, and he's far too old to ever quite break the habit entirely. But ever since Arthur dropped that bombshell on him, sleep has become an ever more scarce resource.

So, in an effort to ease his racing mind, he aimlessly paces the vast halls of the Hellsing manor, like some kind of ghost in pinstripe pajamas.

After so many years, Walter could find his way around this place with his eyes closed. In fact, he shuts his eyes, brushing his fingertips against the wallpaper as he wanders. The distant sounds of nighttime play around him, the light of the full moon dancing on his eyelids as he walks past the big window in the parlor.

The air gets progressively cooler the deeper into the manor he goes, the stairs creaking softly beneath him.

...He opens his eyes, suddenly feeling like he isn't alone.

As he moves further, he can hear a voice. A soft, sad voice.

What on Earth is Integra doing up so late?

Taking extra pains to keep his footsteps quiet, he pokes his head around the corner.

Integra is curled up against the door to the basement, a heavy wool blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her pretty face is flushed, her eyes rimmed with red- she's obviously been crying.

"-They think I'm stupid," she mumbles, tugging the blanket tighter around herself. "They think if they just don't talk about it, I won't notice what's going on."

Walter's heart plunges into his stomach.

"...Daddy's not going to get better. I know that already. But he and Walter don't think I could handle it if I knew."

She rests her head against the heavy oak door, closing those lovely blue eyes of hers.

Creeping tendrils of shadow wrap around Integra- as if they were giving her a hug. Another caresses her tear-stained cheek, and her pained expression fades.

Walter wants to run over to her and snatch her away- but he somehow manages to restrain himself. He takes a deep breath, and decides that, for now, it's best to leave Integra be. He can sit her down tomorrow, and talk everything out then.

As much as it pains him, he turns around and walks away, leaving her wrapped in darkness, with all her lonely thoughts.


End file.
